


Sweet Boi Marc

by christallized



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Fluff, Implied Smut, M/M, Oneshot, Romance, heavily implied if you catch my drift, it's all fluff what did you expect, wholesome bois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:02:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christallized/pseuds/christallized
Summary: Marc was sweet.That's one thing Nathaniel was sure about.And he's shy, and he likes him, and he's attractive, and he's soft, and he's fun to be around, and he's patient, and he's precious, and he's passionate, and he's angelic-And Nathaniel is very much in love.
Relationships: Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Comments: 13
Kudos: 80
Collections: MarcNath Fics!





	Sweet Boi Marc

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mpuppy5885](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mpuppy5885/gifts), [fash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fash/gifts).



Marc was sweet.

That was the best way Nathaniel could describe him.

He didn't seem like the kind of person who would ever be capable of hurting someone else; He spoke softly, he spoke kindly, he spoke like he'd never known how to hurt anyone before.

Nathaniel realized this when he saw Marc the day after his akumatization.

He was sitting under the stairs. Nathaniel had seen him once or twice before but only now did he have a name to fit the person.

Slowly, he stepped into view of the stairs, rubbing one arm. He'd apologized yesterday-he'd apologized _a lot_ yesterday-but a part of him was still scared that Marc would still turn around and hurt him, say something mean and tear down the fragile bit of trust that Nathaniel was trying to rebuild.

"Hey, " he said.

Marc's head snapped up. "Oh. Hey, Nathaniel."

He didn't look mad. In fact, Marc actually smiled a little at him, a wholly and completely unexpected reaction that left Nathaniel at a loss.

"Well," Nathaniel said. "I...uh...didn't think about what to say after 'hey', so..." he shifted. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You...uh...coming back to the art room after school?"

Marc blinked. "Oh! Oh, yeah, ok. I can do that."

"Great!" Nathaniel felt like he wanted to jump out of his skin and hide in a corner like a fleshless ball of shame and awkwardness. "See you then!"

Marc laughed softly. "Alright."

Nathaniel walked away, feeling lighter than air while also wishing he had never been born.

~oOo~

Marc was shy.

Nathaniel suspected this early on, but now it was especially obvious, here in the hallway.

Alya all but thrust the phone in his face. "So, Nathaniel, Marc, tell us more about your new comic that's been gaining popularity at an incredible speed!"

Marc stuttered and fumbled over his words, accidentally letting go of the pencil in his hands.

"We didn't expect people to like it so much," Nathaniel answered as Marc dropped to his knees, grabbing the pencil and stammering what sounded like a "sorry" but was kinda hard to tell with how quietly he said it. "We're grateful for all the support our friends have given us."

"And what about you, Marc? Got anything to add to that?" Marc, who was in the process of standing up and dusting off his knees, froze like a deer in the headlights the moment Alya turned the camera to face him. "I...uh..." he wrung his hands, nearly dropping the pencil a second time. "...no comment."

"Fair enough. Now, what would you two say has been the biggest challenge since starting your comic together?"

Marc had moved behind Nath now, partly using his body as a barrier between himself and the much too enthusiastic reporter.

Nathaniel turned to look at Marc. "I...think it would be better if we did this another time."

Alya blinked.

"As a scheduled interview." Nathaniel restated. "As in you tell us that you're going to interview us beforehand."

Alya glanced at Marc. "Oh! Sorry," she said, lowering her phone. "Does Friday morning work for you two?"

Nath glowered. "I'll talk to you about it after class."

Alya nodded. "Got it. See you then!" She turned, catching sight of Nino on the ground floor and sprinted down the stairs. "Hey, Nino! Wait up!"

Nathaniel turned to Marc, who was clutching one arm in a knuckle-white grip. "Hey, are you okay?"

Marc nodded. "Yeah, I'm...I'm okay. She just surprised me, that's all."

Nathaniel nodded. "Alya's nice, but she can be a little overwhelming at times. She's gonna want an interview at some point, but if you're not okay with it then I can-"

"I'm okay," Marc insisted. "If I have time to prepare, I'll be fine. Friday morning works for me."

"Alright."

Nath turned to leave, but a tug on his jacket stopped him. Marc had grabbed the edge of his sleeve, looking at the ground. "Thanks," Marc whispered, before letting go of Nathaniel's arm and speed-walking away.

Nathaniel watched him go, feeling warm inside, an unfamiliar feeling but not unwanted.

~oOo~

Nathaniel found a name for that feeling soon enough.

Marc was someone that he liked.

Sitting alone at the lunch table, Nathaniel only noticed Marc when he coughed politely, standing in front of his table sheepishly.

Nathaniel blinked at him. "Oh! Marc!"

Marc rubbed a shoe against the ground, a lunch tray in his hands. "Hey," he said. "Is it alright if I sit next to you?"

Nathaniel glanced around. Most of his classmates were at their own tables, completely unconcerned with him.

"Yeah," Nathaniel said, expecting Marc to sit down opposite to him. Instead, Marc circled around the table and placed his tray next to Nath.

Oh, that's fine. That's cool.

Nathaniel definitely wasn't freaking out about that.

"So," Marc said. "I had a few ideas about the comic, and I was hoping to run them by you if that's okay."

Nathaniel nodded, idly rearranging the food on his plate with a fork. "What are your ideas?"

Marc's eyes brightened.

As he talked, Nathaniel found himself getting distracted. He wasn't meaning to, his eyes just kept being drawn to the curve of Marc's nose and lips, the long lashes that framed his eyes, the bright, entrancing green of his iris-

Oh.

"Nath?" Marc laughed a little. "Are you there?"

Nathaniel was sure his face was burning. "Sorry," he said, hunching his shoulders.

"You spaced out for a second," Marc said. "I hope I wasn't boring you."

"No, no!" Nath shook his head. "You weren't boring me, it was my fault, I...uh..." He fumbled, trying to think of something to say and finding himself unable to think at all.

He liked Marc.

Oh no.

No no no.

Wait.

Was that a bad thing?

Marc was a great friend, and a great partner. He was kind. He was sweet.

"Nath?" Marc waved a hand in front of his face. "You're spacing out again."

~oOo~

Marc was attractive.

Knowing that he was attractive wasn't the problem. It was knowing that he was attractive _and_ him being so goddamn close that was making Nathaniel go crazy.

"Alright," Miss Bustier said. "So the bus for the other class's field trip broke down, which means some of their students will be riding with us. Unfortunately, we don't have enough seats for everyone, so some of you will have to pile up."

"Oh, no," Alix drawled, turning to look at Nathaniel. "If only _someone_ would volunteer to sit with Marc." She glanced very pointedly towards the writer, who was standing at the front of the bus and looking very nervous.

"I can't do it," Nathaniel said, shaking his head.

"You can do it," Alix insisted.

"Why can't _you_ sit with him?"

"I'm pairing up with Mylene." Alix crossed her arms. "She's very comfy."

"I can't believe you would betray me like this."

Alix raised her voice. "Hey! Marc!"

Marc instantly perked up.

"Come sit with us!"

"For the record," Nathaniel whispered under his breath. "I hate you."

"Noted." Alix stood up to let Mylene take her seat before hopping onto her lap.

"Hey," Marc said, walking up to the group. "Uh...so, am I...?"

"You're sitting with Nathaniel," Alix said, wrapping her arms around Mylene's neck. Mylene laughed.

Nathaniel felt like he might choke on air if he tried to speak.

"Okay," Marc said, starting to clamber over Nathaniel's legs.

Forget speaking, Nath felt like he might die on the spot if he made any sound at all. Marc shifted, knees facing the window, and grabbed the seat in front of him for stability as the bus began to roll out into the street.

Nathaniel could tell that his face was red just by the way Alix was looking at him. He tried to look away, but wherever Alix's dumb smirking face wasn't in view Marc _was_ , and that was a whole different set of problems.

For starters, he was really close. Nathaniel could feel the weight of his legs pressing into his thighs, the occasional bump of his arms against Nath's chest, and it was driving him mad.

Not only that, but it was really early. Like, the sun was just up kind of early. Nathaniel would normally be tired at this point, but Marc was _sitting on his lap_ and sleep was the furthest thing from his mind right now.

The problem with this was that Marc was obviously very tired.

Marc yawned, swaying a little with the movement of the bus, his eyes fluttering as though he was trying to keep his eyes open but failing. His head dropped, body shifting to lean a bit more against Nathaniel.

Nathaniel turned to Alix, eyes wide. "Help me," he mouthed silently.

Alix, that motherfucker, had the audacity to snicker at his predicament.

Miss Bustier turned around in her seat to address the class. "Pardon me," she said. "It looks like we have a bit of a rough road ahead. You may want to make sure everything's secure."

Oh goddammit.

Sure enough, the bus began to rattle and shake as the street turned into less neatly paved roads. Nathaniel, purely on instinct, wrapped his arms around Marc's waist to keep him steady. Marc grabbed Nathaniel's arm with one hand, the other still clutching the seat in front.

He was holding Marc.

Marc was on his lap and he was holding him.

Nathaniel would have buried his face in his hands if his hands weren't occupied with hugging Marc to his chest like a pillow.

If he hadn't been screaming internally the whole time, Nathaniel might have enjoyed it.

Marc's hoodie was very soft and warm, and Nathaniel could smell the sweet-scented detergent that Marc used. Was that weird? Smelling your friend's clothes? I mean, it wasn't like he was doing it intentionally-

Marc shifted to a more comfortable position on his lap and Nathaniel went through all five stages of nirvana and grief at once.

Marc started nodding off, head leaning against Nathaniel's shoulder. The hairs on the back of his neck tickled Nath's nose and cheek in the best and worst torture in the world.

Nathaniel desperately wanted to bury his face in the crook of Marc's neck, let himself get lost in soft red hoodies and coconut-scented shampoo and sleep, but he couldn't.

It'd be weird.

Marc would think he was weird-assuming he was awake enough to notice-

No, he was _not_ going to take advantage of his friend's sleepy state of mind to bury his nose in his friend's jacket and listen to his breathing and pretend that Marc had feelings for him. He wasn't going to.

Both of Marc's hands were now holding onto his jacket sleeve for stability. His breathing was slow and even-he could be sleeping now, oh god, was he asleep on Nathaniel's shoulder?

Nathaniel glanced at Alix and Mylene. Alix was on her phone. Mylene noticed his line of eyesight and glanced at Marc, a soft cooing expression on her face. Nathaniel flushed and turned away.

He couldn't even pull out his phone or a sketchbook to distract himself. All he could do was look around at other people, hope they weren't looking at him, and hope to _sweet fuck_ that he didn't get a boner during the bus ride.

Rose was happily curled up on Juleka's lap, sharing a pair of headphones with her girlfriend as they watched something on Juleka's phone. Adrien was sandwiched between Marinette and Kagami, who were looking confused at Luka sitting on Adrien's knees and no doubt wondering how this had happened in the first place.

Eventually, his eyes started to go heavy as well. Bus ride, crush on his lap or not, Nathaniel Kurtzberg was known for sleeping anywhere. His head rested just a little bit against Marc's back-that was okay, right? He wasn't actually going to fall asleep, he was just going to rest his head a little bit-

"Nath? Nath, we're here."

Nathaniel's eyes snapped open to a face full of red jacket.

He was holding Marc in a tight grip,, face pressed into his hoodie, while said boy was just starting to remove his arms from where they'd been wrapped behind his neck.

Fuck.

Nathaniel reflexively turned to Alix. Sure enough, she was staring back, waving her phone in the air.

Double fuck.

~oOo~

Marc was soft.

In both definitions of the word, Marc was soft.

Nathaniel flopped down on his bed, hand over his eyes like a fainting noblewoman from the victorian era.

Alix had wasted no time sending him picture after picture of him pressing his face into Marc's jacket while Marc was wrapping his arms around Nathaniel's neck. Every time he thought she had run out of pictures, she'd text him a new one and send him into a spiral of emotions once again.

Nathaniel wanted to die.

His phone pinged once again. Nathaniel groaned and opened it up, expecting another pic from Alix.

It was Marc.

**Marc: hey I'm outside your house are we still doing the comic today?**

Nathaniel bolted straight up to a standing position fast enough to make himself dizzy. Fuck! They were going to work on the comic after the field trip!

Nathaniel raced down to the door and opened it. Sure enough, Marc was there.

"I'm so sorry," Nathaniel said, backing away to let Marc in. "I completely forgot about our plans-"

"It's okay," Marc said. "Today was kinda busy. I almost forgot, too."

Nathaniel nodded, making his way back to his room. This was normal. Marc had been to his house before. The fact that they were alone in the house was completely fine. Nathaniel was absolutely not panicking at all. Nope. Not in the slightest.

"So," Marc rubbed his hands together. "I have the plans for pages six, seven, and eight, but page nine is going to need a little workshopping."

"How so?"

"Well, I'll need to cut the dialouge a bit short, not to mention Might's conversation with Ladybug kind of cuts Reverser's scene off too early, in my opinion. I was thinking of sectioning it into two separate pages."

Nathaniel nodded, opening his laptop and moving to grab his sketchbook. Marc moved to sit on his bed while Nathaniel took the single office chair.

Thirty minutes into their work, Nathaniel's phone pinged on his bedside table.

"Who texted me?" Nathaniel asked, deep in focus trying to draw Mightillustrator's mask right on a very small panel.

Marc glanced over at his phone. "It's Alix," he said. "She sent a photo."

Nathaniel's blood ran cold.

Marc was leaning over, squinting his eyes. "I think it's a picture of us-"

Nathaniel snatched the phone away, immediately regretting it when Marc fixed his eyes on him questioningly.

Nathaniel set the phone back, face down on the table. "Sorry-"

"Sorry," Marc interrupted. "I shouldn't have pried, that was invasive and I-"

"It's fine," Nath said.

"It's really not-"

"You're okay-"

"I get it, some things are private-"

"Marc." Nathaniel said, flicking his partner's nose. Marc's mouth snapped closed. "You overthink too much."

Marc huffed, closing his journal. "I don't think that's true."

Nathaniel laughed. "Really?"

"Well," Marc crossed his hands over his lap. "I'm maybe a little curious as to why Alix has been sending both of us photos for the past several hours."

Nathaniel paused. "Both of us?"

"Yeah," Marc said, kicking his legs over the side of the bed idly. "The photos are nice, though."

Nathaniel moved to sit on the bed next to him. "Did Alix...say anything?"

"No," Marc said, as his phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He fished it out. "Speak of the devil," he murmured.

"Oh, god." Nath turned and buried his face in his blankets.

"You must find it embarrassing," Marc said. "Sorry."

Nath blinked. "What?"

Marc didn't answer and turned away from him.

"No, no, no," Nathaniel sat up and grabbed Marc's arm. "You are not blaming yourself again, okay?"

"But you're embarrassed about the pictures," Marc said.

"I'm not," Nath insisted. "Alix is just being a jerk, that's all."

Marc raised an eyebrow. "But if you're not embarrassed, then why..."

Something crossed Marc's face, almost imperceptible, but visible in the widening of his eyes and the slight parting of his lips.

He knew.

Fuck, he _knew._

Nathaniel was very, very nervous.

His heartbeat spiked with anticipation as Marc's voice trailed off, waiting for something, anything to happen.

And something did.

Marc leaned forward, slowly, hesitantly, eyes half-lidded. Nathaniel's heartbeat skyrocketed, but he didn't move away. He reached for Marc's hand and held it like a lifeline, like a buoy to a shipwrecked man.

And then Marc's lips were on his own and he was drowning.

He was breathless, all thoughts washed out of his mind as he grabbed the front of Marc's jacket and pulled the writer towards him, gasping, clinging, clumsily filling his senses with Marc, Marc's hands on his chest, Marc's lips, sweet and soft and intoxicating.

Just as quickly as it had happened it was gone, leaving his lips cold and wanting.

Nathaniel didn't even realize his eyes were closed until he opened them to see bright green eyes staring at him.

"Hey," Nathaniel breathed.

Marc's fingers were twisted into his jacket, legs slung over his torso, sitting on his lap once again but this time they were both wide awake, minds racing.

The corners of Marc's mouth twitched upwards. "Hey," he said. "I...uh..."

"I want to kiss you again," Nath blurted, blinking at the insistence in his own voice.

"Yeah," Marc said, biting his lower lip. "Yeah, me...me too."

This time Nathaniel was the first to lean forward, tangling his fingers into Marc's hair as they awkwardly and clumsily kissed, speaking everything that they couldn't find the words for through crashing lips and panting breaths and hands.

Marc seemed to be a master of speaking in this way, hands running through his hair and down his back and his arms and his hips. Nathaniel pulled Marc closer, memorizing skin that he hadn't dared touch with his fingertips before, committing the feathery softness of his writer's raven locks to memory.

Marc shifted and arched under his touch, the slightest bit of sound escaping from his breath, pushing forward until Nathaniel's back hit the bed and Marc's hands moved to support himself as he kissed Nathaniel liked a wave from the ocean, gentle in its flow, yet as unstoppable as the very forces of nature.

When they resurfaced, Nathaniel felt like his limbs had turned to jelly. He stared up at Marc, face flushed, lips red and a little swollen, smiling like a lovestruck fool and feeling twice as in love as one.

"That was...." Marc's voice cracked. "That happened."

"I sure hope so," Nath said. "Because if I'm hallucinating then I don't want a cure for this."

Marc pressed a quick peck to Nathaniel's lips. "You're not hallucinating," he said, amusement crinkling in the corners of his shining eyes.

Nathaniel's phone pinged again.

Marc sighed.

"Hey," Nath said, smiling mischieviously. "What if we gave Alix a taste of her own medicine?"

~oOo~

Marc was fun to be around.

It was raining when he left school, dark clouds hiding the afternoon sun in a light gray cloak. The rain was freckling the pavement, steady but not pouring.

There was a faint sound of classical music somewhere above him, some kind of music performance from the students in another classroom. He could hear the steady waltz beat, somehow just audible over the ambiance of rainfall.

Nathaniel hugged his bag to his chest and stepped out into the rain, ducking his head and bracing for the drops of water.

There was no rain.

The artist looked up to see a red umbrella over his head, held by Marc, who was standing beside him.

"I remember this song," he said, tilting his head. "My mom used to play it all the time when I was a kid."

Nathaniel laughed. "I'd ask you for a dance but the courtyard's pretty wet," he said.

"A dance would be nice," Marc said. He pushed the umbrella towards Nathaniel. "You take it," he said. "I don't mind the rain."

Nathaniel smiled, closing the umbrella and leaning it against the wall. "What a coincidence," he said, grabbing Marc's hand. "Neither do I."

Nathaniel pulled Marc out into the courtyard, laughing as droplets freckled his face. Marc linked his fingers with him as Nath grabbed his waist, leading them into a half-assed imitation of a waltz.

The music rose to a crescendo as they danced around the courtyard, guided by the 3/4 beat of the song. Nathaniel spluttered as the rain plastered his hair to his face, Marc laughed as their feet skipped across the floor, sending up splashes of puddles that glistened in the light of the courtyard with golden flecks.

Whatever Marc was to him now, Nathaniel loved it.

~oOo~

Marc was patient.

"Why didn't you change into dry clothes after you went home?" Marc scolded, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Nathaniel sniffled. "I didn't think I'd get sick," he mumbled, huddling under a mountain of blankets.

"You just walked around in wet clothes all day?" Marc gave an exasperated sigh, pressing a hand to Nathaniel's forehead. "No fever, so that's good. It looks like you've just got a cold."

Nathaniel pouted. "I'm dying," he mumbled in the blankets.

Marc leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "You're not dying," he said.

"Nooo," Nath said, trying to push Marc away. "No kisses."

"No kisses?"

"Don't want you t' get sick."

"Well you should know by now that I like kissing you so," Marc poked Nathaniel's chest affectionately. "Maybe you should have thought about that before you got a cold."

"But I'm gross," Nath whined, cut off by a sneeze. He slapped the bed in the general direction of the tissue box, which Marc handed to him.

"Fine," Marc said. "I'll save the kisses for when you're feeling better, I guess."

Nathaniel blew his nose. It sounded like a dying goose.

Marc smiled. "I'll work on some writing while I'm here. You focus on sleeping."

Nath rolled onto his side. "I don't wanna sleep," he complained, even as his eyes were already closing. "I wanna talk with you."

"You can talk with me on Monday," Marc assured. "If you're better by then."

"Marc," Nathaniel mumbled. "Are we dating?"

Marc paused. "I...don't know," he said. "Are we? I mean, do you want to?"

Nathaniel nodded. "Boyfriend rights," he declared, looking at Marc through unfocused eyes, a sleepy smile on his face. "So I can kiss you all the time."

Marc snorted. "Go to sleep," he said, his face turning a brilliant shade of red as he flung a pillow at Nathaniel's face.

Nathaniel grabbed one of his arms. "Is that a yes?"

"Of course," Marc said, pulling away.

"Yayyyyy," Nathaniel murmured, burying himself under a pile of blankets and quickly falling asleep to the sound of Marc's sweet laughter.

~oOo~

Marc was precious.

Nathaniel nervously checked his phone for the twelfth time in a row, glancing around the restaurant. He nervously twisted the cuff links on his suit, checking a thirteenth time.

Marc was late.

He swung his legs at the empty table. Was a suit too fancy for a first date? Was Marc going to show? Should he text Marc? Call him? No, Marc hated surprise phone calls. Granted, Marc was only 43 seconds late-

"Hey," a soft voice snapped him out of his worrying.

Nathaniel looked up and his jaw dropped.

Marc was wearing a low cut red shirt tucked into a pair of tight black shorts, with rainbow-striped socks curling up over his knee from a pair of heeled boots. He was in the process of draping a punk-looking leather jacket over the back of his seat, nervously fidgeting with the gold pattern on the edges of his long sleeves. His regular black choker had been replaced with a gold-colored one.

In short, Marc looked absolutely stunning.

"Oh no," Marc said. "I didn't realize this was a formal event, I'm sorry-"

Nathaniel looked down at his clean pressed suit and panicked.

"No, it's not!"

"But you're wearing a suit-"

"It's fine-"

"Oh god, we didn't coordinate _at all_ -"

Nathaniel burst into laughter. Marc's rambling dissolved into a fit of giggles, and soon they were clutching each other and laughing until they cried.

"Oh, no," Nath said, resting his head on Marc's shoulder. "We're _disasters_."

Marc dabbed at his eyes with the corner of his shirt. "Yeah," he said, chuckling. "Does my makeup look ok? I didn't ruin it, did I?"

"You look amazing," Nathaniel assured his boyfriend, taking a seat back at the table.

"You too," Marc said. "I gotta say, the suit is a good look for you."

"Really?" Nathaniel tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.

Marc grinned. "Absolutely breathtaking," he whispered.

Nathaniel stuttered, feeling his face warm like an oven. "S-so," he said. "How was your day?"

After a nice (but expensive) meal, Marc and Nathaniel walked hand in hand through the streets of Paris, chatting about things that meant nothing but meant everything because it was the two of them.

Nathaniel leaned into Marc's shoulder, resting his cheek against the soft leather. Marc hummed in response, giving his hand a little squeeze.

He walked with Marc up the steps of the writer's house. They stood for a moment longer at the door, hands intertwined.

"This was a great first date," Marc said, smiling as he ran a hand up Nathaniel's arm, raising goosebumps up the artist's skin.

"Yeah," Nathaniel said, smiling. "I had fun." His fingers curled around the open folds of Marc's leather jacket, pulling Marc down to him and kissing him.

He could taste Marc's lipstick, sweet against his tongue, messy against his lips, better than any food he had ever tasted.

Marc wrapped his arms around Nathaniel, stealing the artist's breath with the rhythm of his lips and the darting of his tongue.

Nathaniel's hands traveled down Marc's back, reveling in the little gasp when his hands settled near Marc's hips, just barely above his ass.

Sure, they'd kissed a lot, and sometimes they'd fooled around a little bit, but this felt different, bordering on the edge of a possibility, a larger step in their relationship if they were willing to take the next step.

Nath pulled back. Marc's eyes were half-lidded, his lips still parted and glistening with smeared lipstick and mixed saliva.

"Do you want to..." Nathaniel nodded towards the door, slowly moving his knee to knock against the inside of his boyfriend's thigh. Marc's breath hitched.

"I, uh..." Marc swallowed, licking his lips. "I don't know," he said, pulling away and hugging his arms to his chest. Nathaniel's body felt cold with the sudden absence of heat and the anxiety in Marc's eyes.

"That's okay." Nathaniel grabbed Marc's hand. The tension in Marc's body relaxed again. "That's completely okay."

If Marc didn't want sex, then that was okay. Art didn't always need to be appreciated up close and personal, and even if Nath wanted to share everything with Marc, he wanted Marc to be willing to share it too.

Marc squeezed Nathaniel's hand. "I want to," he said. "Um...I think I want to, but not...not now. Maybe not for a while."

Nathaniel stood on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Marc's cheek. "Whenever you're ready," he said.

Marc pulled Nathaniel into a hug.

When Nathaniel finally left, it was with a light heart and kiss-bruised lips.

~oOo~

Marc was passionate.

Nathaniel was hanging out in Marc's room a few days after their first date, doodling, acutely aware of Marc's eyes trained on the back of his head.

He turned. Marc was laying on his bed, playing with the strings of his hoodie.

"Yes?"

Marc chewed on his bottom lip, an unfairly cute thing for him to do. "I think I'm ready," he whispered.

"Huh?" Nathaniel blinked. "Wait, for what?"

The light blush on his cheeks darkened. "You know," he said, looking off to the side. "The thing...that we talked about?"

Nath, for all his talents and flaws, held memories in his brain like water through a sieve. He blinked cluelessly.

Marc squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and turned to look Nath straight the eye. "Sex."

"Oh." The dots connected in Nathaniel's brain. " _Oh._ "

" _It's okay you don't have to stop drawing-_ "

Nathaniel had already dropped his pencil. "Wait, do you want me to finish drawing or no?"  
Marc buried his face in his hands. "You don't have to," he mumbled into his palms.

"I mean, I already put my pencil down." Nathaniel moved to crawl onto the bed next to Marc, who was now curled up in a fetal position.

"This is embarrassing," Marc whined.

Nath laughed. "I think I killed the mood."

Marc uncurled to look up at him through wide eyes. "Do you think you could bring it back?"

Nathaniel leaned down and kissed Marc's forehead. "I'll try."

Marc sat up to open his bedside drawer, and the artist felt his heartbeat accelerate when he pulled out condoms and lube. Nathaniel shifted with a nervous and excited energy.

"Uh..." Marc set the items on the side of the bed, gesturing to them. "Tada." He gave a cringe-filled smile in Nathaniel's direction.

Nathaniel snorted. "Tada?"

"Look, my nerves are all over the place-" Marc tried to defend himself but Nathaniel grabbed him by the jacket and pressed his lips against the writer's pink ones.

Nathaniel ravished Marc with kisses across his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his jawline, pushing Marc down against the mattress and pulling the jacket away from Marc's shoulders.

The hesitant energy quickly dissipated as Marc responded, slipping his fingers under Nathaniel's shirt and digging his nails lightly into his skin.

"You're incredible," Nathaniel whispered as he kissed and nipped at Marc's skin. Marc shuddered. "Absolutely perfect."

Marc gasped, hooking his legs around Nathaniel's waist, dragging him closer as Nath gave him every attention, hooking a finger under his choker and pulling it down to bite and cherish his neck.

"Nath," Marc hissed, his voice quickly rising to a whine as Nath unclasped the choker and began leaving kisses down to his clavicle. His hands traveled to the waistband of Nath's pants.

Nathaniel pressed his knees into Marc's thighs, spreading him apart. "What do you want?" He whispered, enjoying how obviously Marc was affected by the low tones in his voice.

Marc shivered. "I want you," he said, voice trembling. "I really, really do."

Nathaniel considered teasing Marc, asking him for specifics, but decided to give him some leniency.

"If you want me," he said, pressing a kiss to Marc's lips. "Then you can have me."

~oOo~

Marc was angelic.

Nathaniel, for once in his life, was the first to wake up.

His neck and chest were covered in little purple marks, bruises made by teeth and tongue that felt wonderful when he'd first received them but now were a little sensitive to the touch.

An arm was tightly clutching his waist under the covers, anchoring him into a drowsy, half-awake haze of thoughts. There was a face pressed into his chest, breathing deep, warm, even breaths into his collarbone.

Nathaniel must have made a noise or moved because Marc shifted, eyes blinking open to look at him.

"Morning," he whispered, shifting so he could press a kiss to Nathaniel's forehead.

Nathaniel's face scrunched up. "No," he whined, squeezing his eyes closed again.

Marc laughed quietly. "Okay."

Nathaniel buried his nose in Marc's fluffy hair, smiling as he let the warmth of Marc's embrace lull him back to sleep.

When Nathaniel opened his eyes again Marc was gone.

For a second he panicked. Had Marc ditched him?

Then he realized he was in Marc's bed, and Marc was sitting at the edge, in the process of putting his pants back on.

"Nice view to wake up to," Nathaniel mumbled.

Marc turned sharply, face turning red. "Oh. Good morning."

"Morning," Nathaniel replied, sitting up and yawning. The covers pooled around his waist, the only shred of decency saving Marc from becoming a completely crimson-faced mess.

"Have you seen my jacket?" Marc asked.

"I think it's still on the bed somewhere," Nathaniel said, kicking his feet under the covers to search for it. "How are you feeling?"

"Uhhh...sore," Marc answered. "But it was nice."

Nathaniel laughed. "That's good to hear." His toes found the red jacket and he pulled it out, tossing it to Marc.

Marc turned it over in his hands. "Oh, no," he said, cheeks flushing. "It...uh...got a little messy."

Nathaniel winced sympathetically. "Did we miss it while cleaning up?"

Marc sighed. "I have to go wash it."

Nathaniel swung his legs over the other side of the bed, the cold draft bringing attention to several other hickeys on his thighs.

Marc gave a sharp intake of breath. "That looks like it hurts," he said.

"Nah, they're just bruises," Nath said, poking one experimentally.

"I wasn't talking about the-" Marc choked a little. "I was referring to your back."

"What's on my back?"

"Here, I'll take a picture," Marc said, grabbing his phone. A few seconds later the phone was handed to Nathaniel and he understood exactly why Marc had commented on it.

His back was covered in red scratches, reaching from his shoulder blades down to his bare ass. Tentatively, Nathaniel reached to touch his back and hissed the moment his fingers made contact.

"Sorry," Marc said, ducking his head shyly.

"Eh," Nathaniel shrugged. "We were both a little caught up in the heat of the moment."

"Yeah." Marc rubbed his neck, which Nathaniel now saw was decorated in several purple bruises.

He probably should have done the normal thing and looked away, but the sunlight filtering through the curtains was just a touch too perfect, highlighting the specks of dust floating around Marc's face and chest, backlighting him in a golden glow.

He looked like an angel.

Marc was very obviously avoiding his gaze, eyes fixed on the headboard next to him. "Nathaniel?" He said, his voice trembling just a little.

"Yes?"

"Please put some pants on."

"Gah! Right, sorry."

~oOo~

Marc was his.

Not in the sense that he owned Marc, but in the sense that he knew Marc had complete and utter trust in him, that he looked at him with a smile and a glow in his eyes that was for Nathaniel and Nathaniel only.

"I don't want this to ever end," Marc said one night, curled up on the couch, his head in Nathaniel's lap while the artist stroked his hair.

"What part?"

Marc closed his eyes. "Us," he said. "I love spending time with you. Heck, I love you, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel smiled. It wasn't the first time Marc had said it, but each time he did Nathaniel felt a familiar jump to his heartbeat and a warmth in his face. "I love you too," he said, cupping Marc's cheek with one hand. "I'd stick with you forever if I could."

Marc hummed. "Have you ever heard of promise rings?"

"Promise rings?"

"You give someone a ring, as a promise to take the relationship seriously. I just thought..." Marc paused. "Do you think a promise ring would clash too much with my gloves?"

Nath chuckled. "Are you asking me to go get promise rings with you?"

Marc bit his lip in the way that made Nathaniel's heart flutter and also made the artist boy incapable of saying 'no' to anything Marc asked. "I mean, if we both want to," he said.

Nathaniel leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Marc's lips. "We can put yours on a necklace or something," he said. "That way it doesn't clash with your gloves."

Marc beamed.

Nathaniel often wondered how he'd managed to get so lucky as to have an amazing writer and boyfriend like Marc.

If he'd told his past self from a year ago that he'd soon be in the best place of his life, working with someone that he loved with his entire being-

And to think that the sweetest boy in the world loved him back!

Nathaniel didn't think he could ever be happier.


End file.
